


A Kitten Called Merle

by vassalady



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Gen, Kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michonne does not get along with Andrea's kitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kitten Called Merle

**Author's Note:**

> I just really needed to write something cute and silly. No claim to quality, wrote this for a study break.

Michonne glared at the creature on front of her. She leveled her sword at it. If it made one wrong move...

"What are you doing?" Andrea grabbed Michonne's hand, making her drop the sword. "You could poke his eye out with that thing!"

"It's just a letter opener," Michonne said. It came out sounding sulky, which made Andrea raise an eyebrow.

"It's still dangerous."

"You want to talk about danger?" Michonne said as Andrea picked up the kitten. "That thing is a natural born killer."

"He's a cat," Andrea replied with a roll of her eyes. She scratched the kitten's head. "It's ok, Merle, I love you." She grinned as Merle purred and rubbed his head against her breasts.

Michonne had never wanted a cat, but when Daryl's cat had had a litter, Andrea had decided they needed one. Daryl had already given away all but one that had half of one leg missing. He had been reluctant to give that one up, but Andrea cajoled him until he gave in.

So Merle joined their family, but Michonne knew he was trouble from day one.

He was a devious animal. He played the part of the sweet kitten when Andrea was around. He would rub against her skin, demanding her attention and would sleep curled up on her collar bone.

If Michonne tried to move him, he would hiss at her.

They tried locking him out of the bedroom at night, but he yowled, which made Andrea feel guilty.

Because of Merle, Michonne and Andrea hadn't had sex since they'd gotten him.

Andrea babied Merle, carrying him around with her constantly. But when she was gone, it was clear Merle didn't need the help. The lack of one leg didn't slow him down in the slightest. He ran around the house like lightening. He climbed to the top of the fridge, where he would lay in wait for Michonne. As she passed, he would leap onto her head, claws out, and then dash away.

He squirmed his way into Michonne's drawers (and only her drawers, never Andrea's), getting fur all over her black clothes and peeing on her whites. He tore into the Michonne's plants, eating them and then regurgitating them on her side of the bed.

Michonne and Merle did not get along. He was a conniving little piece of shit wrapped up in fur and big eyes, and Andrea let him eat out of the palm of her hand.

Andrea absently tickled Merle's stomach. He made happy noises that were little hiccupping mews with a stutter due to his purring. 

"I worry about him, sometimes," she said. "I think we took him too early from his mother."

Michonne snorted. She picked up the letter opener again and continued to slice through the mail.

"Last week, I was thinking he could really use a friend."

"A friend?" Michonne rose an eyebrow.

"Yes," Andrea said. She gently placed a hand over Merle's ears. "You know he has his little... litter box problem? He just needs to be taught where he needs to go."

Michonne just stared. She loved Andrea, but sometimes, Andrea chose to only see what she wanted to see. "You tried to teach him already."

"I know, don't remind me," Andrea said. "But just wait until you see what I've got." She placed Merle right in front of Michonne, on top of the mail, and left the room. Merle glared up at her; Michonne glared back.

Michonne waved her hand at him. "Go," she said. "Shoo." Merle's hackles rose, and he hissed at her. "Stupid cat."

"Here we go," Andrea said as she returned. She carried a large cardboard box, which she placed on the table. There was a thump from inside the box.

"No," Michonne said. It couldn't be. She wouldn't have. Not again.

Andrea opened the box and lifted out a large brown Maine Coon cat. It was practically the size of Andrea's torso and when it turned to look at Michonne, she saw it only had one eye.

"Isn't he the cutest?" Andrea said, rubbing her cheek against his fur. "They called him the Governor at the Humane Society, but I was thinking something a little more normal. George, maybe. Or perhaps Phillip."

Michonne felt Merle run into her arm. She looked down to find him cowering, using her as a shield. He slipped from the table and burrowed into her. She could feel his little body quaking.

She looked back at Andrea and the Governor or George or Phillip or whatever Andrea wanted to call him. The cat narrowed his one good eye at Michonne, and she could have sworn he smirked as Andrea hugged him to her chest. He was the most self-satisfied and intimidating cat she had seen.

"I just saw him and couldn't leave him there. They were going to put him down soon," Andrea said, voice dripping in concern.

The cat continued to glare at Michonne, and she felt Merle press closer into her. She placed a protective hand over his shaking body.

If even Merle was freaked out by this cat, this meant bad news. Very bad news.

"He and Merle can spend time together when we're both out," Andrea went on, "and maybe he'll like to sleep on you every night! I know you get jealous when Merle chooses to sleep with me."

Michonne shivered at the idea of that thing sleeping anywhere near her. She glanced down and saw Merle's terrified eyes looking up at her.

"It's okay," she murmured under her breath. "It'll be ok." She heard the softest and highest pitched mewl come from Merle.

Nestled tightly in Andrea’s embrace, the Governor leered at them.

Oh, yes, things were definitely not good if Michonne and Merle agreed.


End file.
